


Red Like Love

by opheliabloo



Series: Dre Goes To Baby Jail [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dre goes to baby jail part 2, Dream in Pandora’s Vault, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Manberg Festival on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), imprisoned!Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28898406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opheliabloo/pseuds/opheliabloo
Summary: George goes to visit Dream in Pandora’s Vault and comes to a painful conclusion.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Dre Goes To Baby Jail [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118447
Comments: 22
Kudos: 225





	Red Like Love

It was the chill of the morning air that roused him, bleary and sore, from the safety of his nonsensical dreams. There was dew on the window, casting shattered rays of sunlight along his walls and floor. George reached up and pretended to hold one of the white-golden flecks in his palm.

The couch below the window was empty, covered in scattered blankets. 

_ Sapnap must already be up. _

George shuffled into the small kitchen, feeling the familiar pit in his stomach settle as whatever peace he’d gotten from his dreams sank back into the shadows of his bedroom. “Morning,” said Sapnap. A mug and a small sandwich sat before him at the table, completely untouched.

_ I hate you for doing this to us.  _

“Morning,” George replied, wiping the grit from his eyes. Sapnap leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. “You slept on the couch again?” 

Sapnap’s face softened with poorly-hidden pity. “You were talking in your sleep again.”

“Fuck.” George pulled out a chair across from him and collapsed into it with his head in his hands. A sharp ache pulsed over one of his eyes. “What was I saying?” 

“Nonsense, as always.” Sapnap sipped at his coffee. “But I could tell you were upset. Like you were trying to talk to — to him.” 

_ We can’t even say your name at home anymore.  _

“I’m sorry, Sapnap,” George said quietly. “Just leave me when I get like that. I won’t make you sacrifice your rest because my brain short-circuits at the slightest bit of stress.” 

Sapnap chuckled. “In your defense, I think this situation is a little bit more than ‘the slightest bit of stress’.”

There was a spark of humour in Sapnap’s words. Once upon a time, George would have found it to be a pitiful attempt at a joke, or perhaps barely even a joke at all. But now that the thick blanket of pain hung between them, snuffing out every ounce of peace they shared, George found himself so very thankful for that little spark. 

_ The thought of you hurts so bad it carves a hole into my chest and leaves it to fester. _

“How is Tommy?” Sapnap continued. “He comes over to visit like every second day now. I didn’t know you two were close.” 

“He’s good. Bounced back a lot quicker than we have, that’s for sure,” George said. He pulled Sapnap’s uneaten sandwich across the table and pulled off a piece of the crust. “Poor kid. I can’t believe what Dream did to him.” 

“I could fucking kill him for that.” Sapnap’s voice went low. “He basically tortured that kid for months.” 

_ You were so much like him when you were his age. Is that why you were so brutal? _

“I think he feels safe with me. After all the shit that went down with Wilbur and Techno and Dream, I’m basically the only adult in his life that doesn’t have an agenda behind liking him.” 

The lines of exhaustion etched into Sapnap’s face shifted as he smiled. “Good. Be that for him. I don’t think I could,” he paused. “Not after everything I’ve done.” 

“Don’t torture yourself over that. War changes everybody.” 

“I just hate how much I was becoming like Dream. It freaks me right out.” 

They went silent. George took another bite of Sapnap’s sandwich but found it tasted like cardboard. Sapnap, seeing him grimace, quirked a frown and tapped the edge of the plate. “Eat,” he said sternly. “I love you and all, but you look like shit.” 

Food hadn’t tasted good to him in weeks. George motioned for Sapnap’s coffee. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t have much of an appetite these days.” 

Sapnap handed his mug to him and George took a large gulp, washing down the bread and jam that felt like glue on his tongue. “Just take care of yourself for me, okay? I don’t want to watch you wither away before my eyes.” 

His voice was lined with anger, but not anger towards George. Sapnap had never been one to talk about his feelings, but George had known him long enough to hear the care woven into the sharpness of his words. “I’ll be okay, I promise,” he said gently. “I’m not about to leave you here alone.” 

Sapnap grabbed George’s hand and held it tightly. His brow was furrowed, jaw set, eyes squeezed shut. “Thank you,” he whispered in a tight voice. “Thank you.” 

_How dare you put him into such pain._

“What’s on the schedule for today? More rebuilding?” George said after a moment of silence. 

“For me and Karl and Punz? Yes,” Sapnap replied. “Not for you, though.” 

George scowled. “Why not?” 

“Because you nearly got yourself killed yesterday!”

George’s sleeping and eating habits were subpar, to say the least. The busy days filled with rebuilding the community house and the rest of the bombed-out SMP didn’t give him much time to rest, either. However, George had a knack for ignoring things, and ignoring the shakiness in his legs and the pit in his chest felt like the best idea at the time.

That was, at least, until he rose too quickly while building another house one hot afternoon and found himself suddenly on the ground, surrounded by his worried friends and covered in his own blood. 

“I passed out and cut my head on a rock, okay?” George said. “You’re acting like I had a stroke.”

“That could have killed you!” Sapnap exclaimed in frustration. “You fell off a goddamn wall and nearly gave yourself brain damage. No way in hell are we letting you build with us today. You can stay here and relax for once in your life.” 

_ I can’t stay here alone.  _ “Absolutely not.” 

Sapnap’s eyes glinted with his certainty. “Absolutely yes, George. Go and visit Tommy if you need someone to talk to.” 

The headache above George’s eye returned in full force. “Please, Sapnap. I won’t do any heavy lifting.” 

“My decision is final. You need the rest, dude. You’re going off of three hours of sleep a night.” 

“Fuck. I’m going back to bed.” 

“Good. You need it.”

George stood with a huff and stomped back to his own room, letting the door close with an echoing boom. He fell limply onto the small couch beneath the window, curling up in one of the strewn blankets. Tears fell. He didn’t try to stop them.

He stayed there for the next hour, listening to the sound of Sapnap’s footsteps as he cleaned up and got dressed. Sometimes they stopped by his door, as if Sapnap were standing there to listen for any noise, but George never called out to him. Karl and Punz came eventually as well, bringing with them the safety of companionship that swept Sapnap up and carried their guffaws back to George’s ears from all the way across the field. George closed his eyes when the silence finally returned, knowing he wouldn’t sleep. Sometimes it just helped to pretend.

_ You could visit him.  _

“No!” George said aloud, but idea had already latched itself onto his thoughts. It danced behind his eyelids, singing a steady tune of  _ you could, you could, you could, you could.  _

George pressed his face into the wooly softness of his blanket. It smelt distantly of Sapnap. Sapnap, his brother, the only friend George could fully trust. Sapnap, who’d stood between Dream and Tommy when Dream had first been captured to keep Tommy safe. Sapnap, who’d probably kill George if he found out what awful idea had wormed its way into his head. 

_ You want to see him as much as he wants to see you.  _

A jolt of nervous energy had George standing, pulling at his hair as if it would calm him.  _ You want to see him,  _ the voice in his brain hissed,  _ You want to see him and talk to him and kiss him and hold him and punch him and tear him to pieces and rip his goddamn throat out for ruining your life and —  _

George barely made it to the sink before vomiting. He laid there for a while, bile burning his throat and lips, hoping that he’d find some sort of refuge from the want screaming in his chest if he cried hard enough.

Surprise surprise. He didn’t. 

Sam, safe to say, did not look happy to see George standing at the prison’s doors. Tipping his welder’s mask up onto his forehead, Sam gave him a worried frown. “You’re supposed to tell me beforehand if you want a visit.” 

“To hell with that,” George said flatly. “I want to see him.” 

Sam pursed his lips. “I can’t let you in in good conscience, George. You look ill. Come back with Sapnap or Tommy one of these days.” 

“You’ll have a murder on your hands if Sapnap gets anywhere near Dream right now. I have no desire to hurt him.” 

“I’m not worried about Dream. I’m worried about  _ you.”  _

George drew in a long breath. “I need this, Sam. I need to see him.” 

Sam glanced back at the prison looming behind them as though it were the gates of hell itself. “I understand that, but—“

“I lead this town now,” George continued softly. “I know what I can handle.”

“Dream’s not doing well,” Sam said. “I’m trying my best to keep him healthy, George, but he barely sleeps and just screams for hours on end—“ 

“I can talk to him. He’ll listen to me. This will help us both.” 

Sam did not speak for several long moments. George watched the idle flow of lava fall from one of the gated-off towers.  _ You’d wanted this built. For who? For Tommy? Me? All of us?  _

“Fine.” Sam flicked the welder’s mask back over his face. “Give me everything on you. Weapons, potions, trinkets, everything.” 

“I only have this.” George held out a pumpkin loaf wrapped in brown paper. “You can check my pockets if you’re that worried.” 

“I trust you,” Sam said with a hint of reluctance. “But if Sapnap gets on my ass for letting you do this, I expect you to back me up. I’ve warned you.” 

Sam pressed a button on the obsidian wall. As if powered by magic, the two hulking doors separated with a resounding screech. George stared down the long, dim hallway and felt his hands shake.  _ I can’t do this. I can’t do this. I can’t do this.  _

Waving to Sam, George took a step in. Then another, then another. The door roared to life behind him, sealing him in. 

_ George felt like he was walking to his own execution.  _

George didn’t notice any movement in the central cell, even as he got close enough to read the titles of the books scattered on the floor. Silently, he leaned his forehead on the cool glass, feeling the gentle thrum of enchantment vibrate against his skin. 

_ I know you’re in here.  _

The bed in the corner had been stripped down to a mattress, with the blankets and sheets stuffed underneath it as though some sort of animal had made a nest. George raised a single finger to the glass and, ever so lightly, knocked on it with his knuckle. 

Something moved beneath the bed. George gulped, his throat drier than he remembered. The words felt like molasses coming out: “Dream?” 

The movement beneath the bed stopped. A single hand crept over the side of the bed, bringing along with it an arm, a shoulder, then a head. George forced himself to look as Dream unfolded from the shadows beneath his bed like one of the monsters George had been afraid of as a child, eyes wide yet duller than ink-smudged paper. There was a speckle of blood beneath his nose, a yellowing bruise across his knuckles. He was thin, sallow, colourless. He looked decrepit, a near opposite to the god-like being George had fallen in love with so long ago. This was a man, not a god. A sick, lonely, tired young man. 

George had never wanted to hold him in his arms so badly. 

“George?” Dream whispered hoarsely. 

“Hi there.” 

“You came.” Dream was still. “You came.” 

“I did.” 

So many emotions roiled in George’s stomach that they all seemed to cancel each other out, leaving George feeling as though he was floating, teetering on some unseen edge. He couldn’t feel his heart beating. He wasn’t even sure if it still was beating at all.

Dream leaned forward slightly, screwing his eyes shut. A half-whimper-half-groan drifted from his lips. “George.” He staggered forward a couple steps. “I’m— I’m so—“ 

“Don’t start with that,” George whispered. “Please.” 

Dream’s face twisted into a grimace. “What else am I supposed to say?” 

“I don’t know.” George put his head in his hands. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” 

“I’m sorry, George.” Dream pressed his hands to the glass. George was close enough to see the bags beneath his eyes, the raised indents of scratch marks on his cheeks and forehead. “I’m so fucking sorry.” 

“You fucking better be. You ruined this for everyone.” 

“I’m sick. I’m sick, George.” He whimpered. “And I fucked up so badly and I hate myself for it.” 

George closed his eyes.  _I shouldn’t have come here. I’m not strong enough._ “Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore. Not after all this. We  _gave_ you chances to get better.” 

“I understand that.” 

“I don’t think you do, Dream! I really don’t think you do!” George cried. “Because you’re talking to me like there’s even a chance that I’ll forgive you!” 

“I’m not—“ Dream fell into a crouch, hands tangled in his hair. “I can change. I can learn. We can have our happy ending, George.”

“No we can’t! You ruined that possibility!” 

“You don’t know that!”

George wanted to go home. He wanted to go home, lock himself in his room, and bury himself beneath every blanket he owned. If he was lucky, then he’d suffocate there. 

_I can’t leave Sapnap alone._

“I don’t even know what I came here for,” George said. “We both know we could never move past this.” 

Something within Dream seemed to break. “George,” he breathed. “Please.” 

“I don’t know how you ever thought this shit would ever work out for you.” 

Dream shrugged weakly. “I don’t know. It all made sense before.”

“Your brain will always confound me.” 

A ghost of a smile quirked Dream’s broken face, but the words he seemed to want to say couldn’t make it past his throat. George took a tentative step backwards, turned away ever so slightly, as if he were waiting for the right moment to run. 

But did he want to run? Did he  _really?_

“Did you cut your head?” Dream asked. 

“Oh.” George touched the bruising scrape along his hairline. “I had a fall while rebuilding yesterday. It’s fine.” 

“Are you eating? Sleeping? Is Sapnap okay?” 

“Sapnap’s fine. I could be better.” 

“George, are you taking care of yourself?” 

“I’m fine, Dream.” 

Dream moved onto his knees and stuck his hand through the food slot. “Let me see.” 

His hand looked so familiar. Cold, ghostly versions of it trailed their soft fingertips down the curve of George’s jaw, over his lips, tangled themselves in locks of his hair. 

Slowly, reluctantly, George lowered himself to his knees and placed his head in Dream’s hand. A gentle thumb ran over his cut, just hard enough to make it ache. 

_ It would be so much easier if I could just hate you. _

“George,” Dream said gently. “You don’t look well.” 

George stood, dragging himself away from Dream’s touch before he lost the ability to. “I don’t  _ feel _ well, Dream. You’re rotting in a fucking cell and Sapnap and I have to try and rebuild the crater you left us.” 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could help.” 

“You can’t.” George turned, staring down at the door at the other end of the hall. “You can’t. You just can’t.” 

“I want to hold you again. Just once. I want to comfort you. I love you.”

“Oh, fuck off!” George whirled around and slammed his palm against the glass. Dream jumped back, eyes wide. “You don’t get to play lover anymore. You don’t get to fuss over me. You  _ did _ this to me.” 

“I’m sorry!” Dream said angrily. “I can’t stop myself from caring!” 

“But you  _ did! _ You said it yourself!” George wanted to punch straight through the glass itself just to expend some of the furious energy blazing within him. “No more attachments! You gave us up, Dream! You made your choice!”

“I did not give you up! I had to protect you and Sapnap from being used against me!” 

George’s throat tightened. “What made you like this? We were all so happy before. Why did you do this?” 

“It’s Tommy!” Dream cried. “He did this! He showed me how the things I love can be used against me!

“Dream, enough about Tommy!” George tangled his hair in his hands and pulled until his scalp was burning. “You and I both knew this isn’t his fault!” 

Dream’s wild eyes narrowed into snake-like slits. “If you knew anything about the position I was in, you’d understand!”

“God, Dream.” The hole in George’s chest grew wider, wider, until it was bottomless. “You still don’t get it, do you?” 

_I can feel you slipping through my fingertips._

“I don’t think I deserve to be in this prison, George. This is my town.” 

_ I thought your mind was stronger than this. _

“You wanted to control us all. Tommy, Sapnap, me. You tortured a child for months just for your own amusement.” 

_ Choose me, Dream. Choose me. _

Dream turned back to his bed. “When I get out,I’ll keep you safe from everyone. Nobody will use you against me, ever. Not like they’re doing right now.” 

George smiled. A tear dribbled down his cheek. “You won’t even pretend to be sorry anymore? Not even for me?” 

Dream sat down on the floor, facing away. “I thought you’d forgive me if I told you what you wanted to hear.” 

_ If only you knew how fucking close I was to doing just that.  _

“I’m leaving.” The words came out as a breathless whimper. “I can’t do this.” 

“You’ll be back. You love me, George. Just like I love you.” 

George turned on his heel, clutching the pumpkin loaf so tightly in his hands that the crunchy surface cracked and sunk his fingers into the bread’s softness. The walls were closing in. “I love you, George!” Dream repeated over and over, his voice rising to a hysterical crescendo. “I know you love me too!” 

George forced himself to not look back, even as the great doors opened back up for him like a mouth about to swallow him whole.

If it had, George wouldn’t have complained.

~

“I’m back!” 

The door of the cottage closed with a resounding slam. “George?” Sapnap called. “Are you here?” 

“Yeah,” George groaned blearily. He pushed himself onto his elbows and felt a nap line carved into his face itch as he rubbed at his nose. “I’m in my bedroom.” 

The long rays of sunset cast his bedroom in a fiery orange. George closed his heavy eyes once more, allowing his exhausted body to rest until the sound of Sapnap’s footsteps approaching stopped at his doorway. “You went to see him.” 

He didn’t have the energy to lie. “I did.” 

Sapnap let out a quiet, defeated sigh. “Is there any hope?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

_ You have made your choice, Dream. I’ve made mine.  _

Sapnap made a weak, wounded noise. George lifted the covers of his bed with one of his arms. “Come here, Sapnap.” 

The bed creaked, and the weight of Sapnap’s form laid down beside him, resting his forehead on George’s shoulder. He was shaking, face buried into his clenched fists. “Fuck,” he whispered. “I thought — I thought he might actually have —“ 

George lay there with him as he cried, rubbing small circles into his arm. “I did too. I did too.” 

“What the fuck are we supposed to do now? Just leave him in there forever? Cage him up like a fucking zoo animal and come to gawk at him every week or so?” 

“I don’t know. That’s a decision we can make with the whole town,” George murmured. “Not now. We don’t have to do it now.” 

“I loved him, man,” Sapnap choked. “He was my best fucking friend and I don’t know — I don’t  _want_ to have to restart my life without him. I fucking  _ hate —“  _

Sapnap sat up abruptly, bunched his hands into his hair, and screamed. The noise echoed in George’s ears. “This isn’t fair! This isn’t fucking fair!” He punched the air once, twice. “Why? Why us?” 

George pulled him back down and wrapped his arms around him.  _ I think you broke his heart more than you broke mine.  _ Time passed. George wasn’t sure how long.  _You were his brother, his best friend_.  Sapnap’s sobs quieted into hiccups, then stopped altogether.  _If there’s one thing that will always stop me from going back to you, it’s how much you’ve hurt him._

They couldn’t heal, not yet. George didn’t think anyone could. But they could exist. They could exist all together, wading through their shared pain. They could expose their raw wounds to the cold morning air as they rolled their sleeves up to begin a day of rebuilding, water the new crops with their grief, cook the meat of the animals they raised with their rage. 

George placed a hand where the hole in his chest sat, feeling the burn of his grief cauterize the rawness Dream had left behind. Perhaps there would always be love there, no matter how hard he tried to hack it away. Perhaps it would always want to draw him back to that long, obsidian hallway, where pieces of them all sat littered in fragments. Perhaps he’d never be totally free. 

Perhaps none of them would. 

Sapnap moved in his arms, his steady breathing an anchor to the world around them. He smelt of dirt and clay. Slowly, as to not wake him, George slipped out from beneath the covers. 

_ You look so much younger when you’re sleeping.  _

He walked out of his bedroom, down the small hallway, past the familiar kitchen. The wood beneath his feet creaked and groaned. The fireplace was empty. A broom stood leaned up against the far wall over a pile of forgotten dirt. The remains of Dream’s crushed pumpkin loaf sat on the table. George picked it up in one hand, catching a whiff of the smell. 

_Note to self. Use more cinnamon next time._

Slipping on a pair of slippers, George opened the door to his cottage. The wind ruffled his hair, cold against his face. Two figures trekked up the hill to him, red-faced and grinning as though they’d raced all the way there. 

“George!” They cried, waving. 

_Was that you and Sapnap, once upon a time?_

George lifted the crushed pumpkin loaf so they could see. “You guys want to feed the birds with me?” 

**Author's Note:**

> DRE GOES TO BABY JAIL PART TWO BABIES I CANT BELIEVE BLACK LIKE IRE IS NOW CANON /hj 
> 
> woohoo mini-series! This one was hard to write lol. I’m a pissbaby therefore writing angst is hard jdjsjdjf
> 
> I am thinking of a third part, but it would be considered an alternate second part. Anyone else like... evil gogy? 
> 
> Thanks to all who enjoyed the first part! I hope this one hurts just as much :)))) 
> 
> \- Ophelia


End file.
